


Statue's Fall

by Tod der Fata Morgana (GentleSoul76)



Category: D.Gray-man, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: (Will be expanded upon more later), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Madoka Magica Fusion, Blind!Allen, Gen, Robotic Arm!Allen, Trans!Allen, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentleSoul76/pseuds/Tod%20der%20Fata%20Morgana
Summary: Year 2027: The members of the Black Order rebel against the Vatican, and scatter to the winds, leaving every Magica and Order member for themselves. Allen and Lavi find each other, but six months later disaster strikes, and Allen loses his sight. There are enemies and spies for the Order everywhere; andwith being a Magica, it's either sink or swim.D. Gray-Man/Magical Girl AU(Taken way too seriously.)





	Statue's Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, one and all!
> 
> So, again, to reiterate, mistakes.
> 
> Changing the premise of a series just because you're bored with it but don't want to move on to something else is not a good thing to do to your readers. I apologize. However, since a few people seemed to like the premise of the 'preview' chapter, I'll be keeping some elements while discarding others. Please forgive me! OTL
> 
> Now, I've edited chapter 2, which is now chapter 1, and hopefully made some stuff different/better. Future chapters will be original content rather than chapter 1, because I feel now that putting that there was the wrong thing to do.

**1 and a half years after the attack…**

Allen struggles in the quicksand-like snow, and shivers with the cold. Cursing this frilly skirt, the cold melding his very bones into the ice and snow until all he is is cold, Allen yanks his frozen stocking clad leg out of the snow, using his cloak to pivot himself the rest of the way out of the snow and back onto the surface of the snowbank. Allen then strides past Lavi, shivering, wet and covered in slush, and resisting the urge to stomp. Lavi, who had been taking photos on his iphone of his distress, turns to catch up with him. 

Shivering and shaking, cold enveloping him and nipping at his heels, he motions with his hand, magic beating under his skin like a second heartbeat, and the slush sloughs off of him like discarded memories. With a smile, Allen whispers a spell that casts a shield over the snow. While this should have worked the first time, the snow seems to eat through any barriers put over it alarmingly quickly. But he won’t need this one for very long.

Pausing on the barrier, Allen clicks his tongue and takes the scope of the land, analyzing the labyrinth for strengths and weakness. Beside him, he can feel Lavi doing the same. There are endless rolling hills of snow stretching out before them, probably quicksand like the rest of it, but as long as they keep moving and don’t stay in one place for too long, they won’t get sucked in right away. 

There’s a messily drawn crayon sunset, no telling what dangers that might bring, but Allen resolves to keep a look out anyway. Among the snow is a forest of washed out trees, and slumbering under the trees’ roots in deeply set caverns in the ground are blue and black creatures that they really, really, do not want to wake up. There are also tree branches, tree stumps, and all sorts of dead foliage hidden in the snow, the obvious trap. Allen’s just worried about the not-so-obvious one.

Just when the barrier’s about the break, Allen meets Lavi’s eyes.  _ Have you got everything? _ Lavi winks at him with a grin.  _ ‘Course I do. Who do you take me for? _ Allen smiles mischievously at him in return.  _ You, perhaps? _ The dark blue barrier breaks. They take off at a brisk walk, the snow slurping and sucking at their high heels, Allen missing Lavi for a second as he dodges around a tree. Though that’s no trouble: he can still hear him talking in an undertone, as if even in a serious situation the guy just can’t shut up. Well, either that or he’s got ulterior motivations. One of the two.

“-and then, Lenalee said, ‘Both of you, quit being so stupid! I’m not marrying anyone!’ And then she hit me for giving Komui a midlife crisis!” Lavi said with a laugh, and Allen’s mouth quirks. Nostalgia fills him, before he shakes his head. 

He would have once loved to cling to the past, every last drop of it.

But now, the present is what consumes his time.

His past still haunts him, and on his worst days, it’s his past that drives him forward, rather than his present. And it was his past, combined with the need to learn a way to fight with his vision disability that had drove him to not seek out his friends, even when Lavi said he had found them.

And no matter how much Lavi asks Allen to come with him to see their friends, Allen had refused. He needed to get better. Be better before he saw them again. It already took him nearly a season and a half to get back into fighting shape again, after he found a way to fight again.

He wants to be able to protect them, not the other way around.

Allen, who had been dodging the trees, branches, and plants with grace and ease while Lavi stumbled about, steps over a branch and onto a pawprint the size of his foot. The pawprint and all of the pawprints on the ground around it light up an icy blue, and the hairs rise on the back of Aleah’s neck. Ba **r** ks and and hi **g** h-pi **t** ch **e** d screami **n** g emanate fr **o** m the tre **e** s, and the **n** a deep, bo **n** e chilling ho **w** l.

Lavi sighs, and summons his hammer. “I hate decoys. I really, really do.” 

Great  **w** hite noses that se **e** m to shi **n** e like  **ic** e are p **o** king out from the **i** r caverns, and then the cre **a** ture **s** are flood **i** n **g** out of their b **l** ac **k** and  **w** hi **t** e trees wi **t** h an  _ a _ **_c_ ** _ k-ac _ **_k_ ** _ -ackawo _ **_o_ ** _ o-ack-ack-ack _ or those horrible b **a** ying scr **e** ams spilling from the **i** r mouths. Allen takes stock of them before they can fully reach them. 

The creatures are fox-like in build, stalking close to the ground as they circle them, fluffy crystalline tails level with the ground, fur made entirely out of fine pieces of ice that clink together almost musically as they stalk. Long ears are sharpened to deadly points, with long black claws that are just as deadly sharp, and fangs that look like they could puncture skin as easily as a needle. And judging by the blood staining their maws, this isn’t the first time someone has visited their labyrinth.

Allen has to hand it to Witches. With their creativity, at least fights are entertaining. “Lavi, don’t look up.” Allen reminds. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be forgetting that anytime soon!” Lavi jibes. Then the foxes split off and try to corner the both of them, and they don’t have time to focus on each other. Allen tries to move, only to find that his high heel is stuck to the foxprint, as if drawn to it by a magnetic force. 

The foxes surround him on all sides, one, three, five. Allen’s distraction costs him; a huge fox takes a swipe that snaps his head to the side as it cracks him right across the face. Whoa, when did he land on the ground? Ears ringing from the blow, something warm and wet trickling down his face, a heavy weight steps on his chest, pinning his arms and legs to the ground with sharp claws and cold padded paws. Vision foggy, Allen’s sight is filled with the foxes looming above him, pinning him down into the snow. He can already feel the effects, feel the snow start to sink around him from the foxes’ weight. 

Damn, these things are smart. 

Shit, what is he supposed to do now? His claws are pinned down, his cloak too so there’s no chance of flying out of this one. There’s no room or leverage for him to use his claws, and this stupid Magica outfit comes with gloves so he can’t destroy them either, even if he could get them off of him to do so. His heartbeat accelerates, and the foxes gather around, tasting his fear. No, no, he’s fine. Perfectly fine. No one’s freaking out here. He breathes, in and out, in and out, and mentally shoves the emotion that is totally not there  _ away _ to deal with never as a lightbulb goes off in his head.

What does he have to his advantage? What can he do? Then, with a reckless grin, Allen does something outside of the foxes’ line of vision. He really hopes this works. Then, he’s pushing himself further down into the snow, the snow swallowing him up greedily. With a feral grin that surely flashes fangs, He grabs onto both of one of the foxes’ front paws, refusing to let go with his Magica enhanced strength no matter how much they pull.

This unnerves them; dogs or canines in general don’t like it when you grab their paws, Allen’s seen it with Timcanpy. They skittishly slid off his legs, balking and fidgeting, and that’s all Allen needs to slip his foot out of the trapped high heel, wrap his legs around one, and slide his arm up around the shoulders of the other. They try to pull back but it’s too late. 

Their combined weight pulls them in.

Then they’re being sucked in through the quicksand snow. It’s freezing, freezing cold. And there’s no air, while he holds the foxes in place. The foxes struggle, their struggles born of pure fear. It’s cold, it’s cold, Allen is shivering, Allen is shaking. 

Just a bit more. 

Hold on for a bit more. 

C’mon, he can do this. This isn’t so bad. Fuck this snow, he can do this. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. Fuck. The snow wraps around him, pulling him ever deeper. The foxes don’t seem to be doing too good. Between their whimpers, muffled by the stifling snow, water is running off of them in rivulets, as if the cold liquid of the quicksand-like snow, like an ice cube under cold running water, was making them melt at an alarming rate. Allen felt nothing. He had no sympathy for creatures who wanted to hurt his friend.

But he was beginning to run out of air, a crushing pain rising in his chest, throat locking up on the need to just breathe. Well, just deal with it. He can go without a little bit of air can’t he? The foxes claw at him in a last ditch effort to escape, one scoring down his front and then other giving him a nasty bite in the side, and Allen sees white. 

But Allen is persistent and ruthless.

He kicks one in the middle, shattering it in half, and slashes the other to pieces with calm calculated precision. 

But then Allen runs out of air. The pressure in his chest becomes unbearable, and the last of his air leaves his mouth in a burst of bubbles, and he makes the mistake of breathing in to relieve the burning pain in his chest. Big mistake. Cold enters his bones, wrapping around his heart and settling into him like a second skin. Fuck fuck fuck-

Allen pulls on his escape route, his unbreakable rope he had shot from his Magica uniform and wrapped around the trunk of a tree, right near the top. He’s yanked up immediately, flowing past the melting and broken foxes, too weak to follow him. 

He lands on the snow and immediately casts a vomiting spell, then as many warming spells as possible, as the cold creeps into the crevices of his mind, whispering promises of home and bloodlust. He can’t stop shaking. 

And then, it hits him. Shouldn’t there be sounds of fighting? Why has nothing attacked him? There had still been eight foxes left up here when he had gone down to that shivering hellhole. It hits him like a freight train, and alarm blares through him.

_ Lavi _ .

Allen takes off running, darting around the trees, avoiding nothing but the pawprints on the ground and the path of destruction Lavi has left in his wake. 

“LAVI!” He shouts, desperation threading his voice. It’s like he’s being pulled too tight, his desperation and fear pulling at him like he was a rubberband about to snap. He knew Lavi was capable but… he just can’t help worrying. Eight to one, no less? Without a partner, unless you were especially capable, those were bad odds. Deathly bad odds. And Lavi was the worst out of the two of them when it came to using their Magica abilities, which was more effective on familiars and Witches than innate magic was.

He pants, his breath sounding harsh on his ears, the cold air chilling the back of his throat through his rough, uneven breaths. He trips with a curse, pain flaring in his side, stupid fucking high heels! He rips the other off one and casts it aside, and keeps going. Then something seems out of place. The smell of smoke and burning things. 

_ Lavi’s hammer _ .

“I’m coming, Lavi.” Allen says under his breath, and increases speed, dodging through the dead foliage, trees passing by in nothing but a blur. He bursts into a clearing. The clearing is wreathed in fire, as if a painter was a little overzealous with the color red, including the red of blood.

The fire’s heat hits Allen like a wall, and he can finally spot Lavi, limping and holding his hammer with one arm, surrounded by foxes that circle like they’re stalking wounded prey.  _ Foxes live in families, they don’t fucking hunt in packs! _ As ever, the surreal absurdity of labyrinths never fails to annoy Allen. But, back to business. 

Allen announces his presence with a bang. 

More literally, he runs up to one of the foxes, takes off his glove with his teeth, and touches it. 

On contact with his skin, the fox whines and then abruptly disappears, as if it had never existed to begin with. 

The foxes all snap and snarl at him, and Allen slashes at them with his claws, keeping them back. He’d been trying to get to Lavi, not draw the attention of the familiars who’d been hounding him in the first place. Well, needs must. 

Behind them, fire blooms.

Whooshing out toward them, flickering vibrant and alive just like Lavi, and the foxes shrink back from it. And then they’re running, parting before Allen, and that’s all Allen needs to run towards the flames, not from them. Lavi’s fire would never hurt him.

He runs through the flames, their warmth soothing after his little dip in the snow. The flames giggle and laugh around him, bright and vibrant, tugging on his cloak and urging him to stay. Allen holds a playful flame in his hand and whispers, just for them, “I’m sorry. I don’t have any time right now. Maybe later, okay?” He adds as both placation and promise; he gets the feeling Lavi’s Soul Gem gets lonely with Lavi’s attention mostly on his Magical Specialty rather than his Magica abilities. The flame sags, and then brightens and flickers, flickering out of his hand to land among the rest of the fire. It seems to blaze even more strongly as Allen runs clear.

And then Lavi’s hugging him. Which is…  _ great _ . Just great. He pulls away quickly, much to Allen’s relief, and Allen can still read the lingering fear on his face. Oh. Right. Getting sucked into the ground with five familiars in tow probably would be a bit aneurysm inducing. Oops. Well. Better to ask forgiveness than needless permission, right?

“I noticed that they’re afraid of fire,” Lavi says, Allen blinks, and automatically gets into a more ready stance at Lavi’s businesslike tone. Back to business. They can deal with their unwanted emotions after they’re through this. If they make it through this. If they don’t, Allen suspects he’s going to have a whole lot of regrets in the afterlife.

Allen hums. “Any weaknesses?” He eyes the roaring flames, they’re getting weaker now, they won’t be a hindrance for long. 

But just in case, he turns to Lavi and tilts his head questioningly,  _ Can you guard the back, while I guard the front? _ Lavi grins with a thumbs up, and then looks at him seriously.  _ Sure! No problem! Just be careful, yeah? _ Allen smiles.  _ Of course.  _

Lavi circles Allen until they’re facing back-to-back. Allen’s hackles rise at the proximity of someone so close behind him, a wrenching in his gut like a cruel hand reaching into his stomach cavity and twisting. Lavi starts talking again, and Allen can remind himself that it’s just him. Just Lavi.

“Weaknesses are ‘bout threefold.” Lavi says, flashing him a grin over his shoulder that Allen catches out of the corner of of his eyes. Allen relaxes further. “One’s in the head, the other’s in the stomach, and the third is in the eyes.”

Allen lifts an eyebrow. Those weaknesses seem pretty standard, but why would creatures of ice have such weaknesses? “Why there?” Allen asks, curious.

Lavi put one brown clad arm behind his head, the other seemed to be bloody as well as dislocated. A pang of worry went through Allen at that, and he took surreptitious glances at Lavi out of the corner of his eye, as much as he could manage while still keeping his position, to check for injuries. 

If worse came to worse he could always heal him before the battle started. Sure, it was a huge drain on energy, but it’d be worth it if Lavi was okay. Lavi’s Soul Gem, which was on the right hand of the brown quarter-jacket, appeared unharmed. His red and black coatailed corset was badly scuffed and scratched up, and caked in blood. His long frilly cream skirt was ripped up really bad, with gouges in his legs and through his white stockings that were still bleeding a bit. It appeared as though he’d almost been hamstrung, judging by the deep scratches through the knee length brown high heel boots.

Allen’s gaze fixed on the ground, grinding his teeth. A pressure built up behind his eyes that he refused to let flow. “You can’t do much watching that way, ya know?” Lavi says, and Allen turns to him. 

His eyes are gentle and understanding and other emotions that Allen doesn’t like directed at himself, and Allen finds himself irritated that Lavi had noticed his distress. But Allen takes a deep breath and gets over himself. He wasn’t there. But he’ll be there next time. And they’ve got work to do. A little wetness still escapes, but he blinks it back.

“What were you saying about weaknesses?” Allen asks him, trying to regain his composure.

He can hear the grin in Lavi’s voice as he says, “The weaknesses. They’re all made outta  _ water _ . Sorta like intestines or the brain, I guess? Really interesting to look at, anyway.” Allen smiled ruefully. It figured Lavi’d have the enemies all figured out by now. 

That was his Magical Specialty, afterall. He could see through and analyze the spells and weaknesses of his opponents, and when his opponents attacked him, he could turn their attacks back onto them. Of course, it wasn’t infallible. Lavi had to actually see, or when it came to magic, sense the attack coming, and with only one eye he was at a severe disadvantage when it came to physical attacks. 

And as Allen understood it, he couldn’t see through all magic either. Just some or most of it. His analyzation of other’s weaknesses though, once started, was scarily accurate, with or without his abilities. (Which could only sense physical weaknesses, while Lavi tended to analyze into the mental as well.) 

They met each other’s eyes, and Allen felt a little better. Just knowing Lavi had been okay in the end. His fears fall away, and he examines Lavi’s wounds, because right now healing Lavi should be what he’s focusing on. While Allen takes out his light navy blue Soul Gem to heal Lavi’s dislocated arm and half-hamstrung leg, they cobble together a plan. 

Allen, now feeling a bit drained, but feeling satisfied of his work, stands up from his crouch near Lavi’s left leg and looks at his now slightly darkened Soul Gem. Stupid labyrinths. Because Witches tend to be made up of negative emotions, their emotions blanket their entire labyrinth, which causes a dissonance in the Magica’s own magic. Basically, more positive magic, such as healing or good luck charms, are harder to cast and a huge drain on energy, while more negative magic, such as attack spells or bad luck charms, flourish.    

“Alright, you ready?” Lavi asks, though he sounds a bit nervous himself. Allen, for a reason unknown to him, reaches out to squeeze Lavi’s hand. The tension that had been strung along Lavi’s shoulders without Allen noticing until it was gone leaves him, and Lavi relaxes, letting go of his hand and standing straighter.

Allen quirks a smile at him. “C’mon, lets get going.”

Lavi raises his magenta hammer, gold filigree shining in the firelight, and with a twirl of his hammer the fires go out. Barks sound out, loud and sharp in his ears.  _ Right behind them. _ Allen turns. A fox lunges towards him, mouth open wide with big gaping teeth and slavering jaws. Allen whispers a spell, and fire blooms in his palms. It shoots towards the fox, spreads and catches on the branches and dead foliage, and the fox yelps, stumbling back.

Allen whispers power into his spell, urging strength and destruction into his words. The fire spreads throughout the whole clearing, devouring everything in its path; Allen and Lavi holding a small safe haven in the middle of the firestorm, like the eye in the middle of a storm. Lavi turns to him, face blank. “ _ Dude _ ,” he says.

Allen blinks. Furrows his brow. What did he do now?

“That was awesome! Totally according to plan!” Lavi says, with a grin.

Allen smiles. “Thanks. What now?”

Lavi frowns. ”Now we wait.” Allen nods, listening to the tortured howls of the foxes that got caught up in the fires. Are they slowly melting to death, just like the ones under the snow? What would that be like? Allen had thought of multiple ways for himself to die, on morbid nights where dying sometimes felt more attractive a thought than living in darkness for the rest of his life; melting like the Wicked Witch of the West in the Wizard of Oz did not sound like a pleasant way to go; no matter how amusing the scene had been in the movie, the circumstances themselves could be all too plausible.

The snow underneath them, which they had been alternating putting shields down on, using stabilization spells, or just walking around in as little space as possible, gives a sudden heave underneath them. It roils and undulates and Allen grabs onto Lavi as he nearly falls on his ass. What the hell, what’s… eyes on the snow, his eyes catch the snow as it slowly liquifies underneath them, their perch turning ever shallower and precarious.

Lavi, meanwhile, has taken out his red Soul Gem, and with a flash of red light heals most of Allen’s wounds. The scratches down his front are completely gone, but the deep bite in his side is half healed at best. He can’t hear the barking of the foxes anymore; his guess is that the area of the fire is already water, and that they’re the last of the snow to be turned to slush and water.

Catching onto the rest of Lavi’s plan, Allen opens the wings of his cloak and gestures for Lavi. “I hate this plan I hate this plan I hate this plan I hate this plan…” Lavi chants as Allen picks him up in his arms.

“Duly noted!” Allen snipes, opening his wings, eighteen glorious feet of fabric threaded through with a bone-like structure much like a bat’s that Allen can sense as if they were his own wingtips. Just as the snow and slush is collapsing beneath them, with a powerful flap of his wings, they take off. 

Lavi screams right in his ear, which makes his flying a little erratic because he uses his hearing as well as his new way of seeing the world for flying, which makes for a very unhappy passenger. They leave the clearing and the fires behind, the slight fluttering noise of Allen’s wingbeats and Lavi’s complaints as to airsickness the only other sounds accompanying them.

 

* * *

They fly for awhile, pass more ice and snow and forestry, before coming upon a wooden palisade that they land to investigate. When they land, Lavi practically kisses the snow, “Sweet sweet land, I will never lose you again!” Allen snerks with a half-hidden smile at his partner’s dramatics, before they both investigate the palisade more closely.

It’s guarded by rows upon rows of pikes and spears stuck into the ground, and Allen looks at Lavi.  _ Do you think this is it? _ Lavi nods.  _ Yeah, definitely _ . Allen lifts an eyebrow, with a small smile on his face.  _ Let’s go, then, shall we? _

They turn as one and bypass the pikes with the force of Lavi’s hammer, and climb over the palisade with ease. What is on the other side, however, is rather ominous. As they land on the other side in the snow, a drawbridge looms in front of them, with a moat underneath it full of dark water, the drawbridge guarding a portcullis which is the entrance to a beautifully constructed castle made out of ice. Looping icy stairways, looming castles walls and elegantly crafted ice spires and turrets.

They look at each other. “I so do not trust that drawbridge.” Lavi says.

“Then we’re agreed.” Allen says, opening his cloak and crouching down with arms outstretched.

Lavi folds his arms. “Nuh-uh. No way am I flying with you again.”

“Lavi-”

“The last time we flew with this much stakes, we were nearly eaten by a pack of ravenous crayons!” Lavi says indignantly.

Allen looks at him deadpan. “Lavi, would you prefer the ominous drawbridge, or flying with me?”

Lavi rocks back on his heels, hand on his chin in a clear thinking position, “Well, I dunno, it’s a difficult choice…”

“Lavi, Come.  _ On _ .”

“Alright, fine!” Lavi says with a huff, hurrying to clamber into Allen’s arms. Allen takes off, flapping his wings while flexing his fingerbones in a certain way to get some lift with his membrane-like cloak, aligning his body sideways with Lavi in his arms. 

Lavi, who had had his eyes shut tightly at the time of the takeoff, opens them hesitantly, then peers down and says, “Woah.” And the view, with the drawbridge a small sliver as it passes beneath them, the castle of ice glimmering in the crayon sunset, was quite a nice one.

But then Lavi looks up. 

Lavi’s eyes widen. “Shit!” 

Allen, sensing death from above, swerves to the side, sharp pain flaring through his thigh as an icicle the size of a truck scores a deep gouge into his leg. “Incoming!” Lavi yells, and Allen barely registers the second icicle coming toward them, his instincts flexing his finger bones with erratic flapping to turn them sideways, spreading his wings as they skim along the side of the icicle, and just barely managing not to get brained by the icicle that falls a second behind it.

Everywhere they look, icicles the size of minivans are falling from the ceiling to block their path or skewer them like a shish kabob.  _ This is all Lavi’s fault. I am so depriving him of library privileges later. _

Speaking of Lavi, he has his arms around Allen’s neck in a chokehold, which is making it very hard to breathe, let alone think. “Lavi, don’t choke the driver!” Allen yells. Christ, it sounds like he has a frog stuck in his throat or something.

“Then  _ you _ stop flapping around like a bat in its death throes!” Lavi says, half hysterically. But his grip loosens, and Allen can think about more than just a fight or flight response. 

“We need to get out of the air!” Allen says.

“ _ I _ could have told you that!” Lavi says, Allen can tell he’s still not thinking through the fear. His breathing is uneven, and he’s shaking, clutching onto Allen’s shoulders tightly. A pang of guilt goes through Aleah, but as he nearly rams straight into an icicle and pivots off of it with his feet, flapping his wings erratically and turning sinuously sideways with a downstroke in the air, he’s reminded that now is not the time for emotions.

Dammit. He so does not do emotions. He shouldn’t have to put up with this shit. But… 

“Lavi!” He yells. He doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, he needs to focus or he’s going to get them both killed. But he does take Lavi’s hand, not sure what to do with it but deciding to try for a reassuring squeeze-ish thing, and can split enough of his attention away from what he’s doing to say, “Lavi, I’m sorry! I know it’s scary, but I need you to fous! I need you, so please, calm down and focus on your breathing!” I can’t do this without you. So please… 

Against his chest, Lavi’s breathing evens out, and he’s not sure if it’s helped at all, still busy darting and dodging through icicles and trying desperately to come up with a plan, but every time he gets too lost in thought he gets scraped or hit by an icicle, he’s just way too busy saving their asses to come up with something concrete. Then Lavi says, “The moat.”

“What?” Allen says. Because at this point he’s just so worn out that he’s not sure he heard him.

“We need cover. The drawbridge is our only option. Your movements are slowing, and the portcullis is still too far away,” Lavi says. “A straight drop down into the moat will give us sufficient cover.”

“But…”  _ What if it’s a trap? _

He could hear the grimness in Lavi’s voice as he says, “It’s our only option.”

Allen doesn’t answer. Instead, he folds his wings and dives for the moat. Lavi’s grip on his arms becomes painful, but he hears the creak and groan of ice at his back, falling towards them just a touch slower than Allen’s own velocity. Allen straightens his body into alignment as much as he can, trying to get that last bit of speed just before they hit the water.

They hit the water, and to Allen’s surprise it’s not like hitting a piece of concrete at 160 miles per hour; but rather soft and warm. They come up for air, gasping and sputtering, leaning against the wall as the icicles slam against the drawbridge with the sound of shattering glass; the drawbridge bucks and shudders beneath the onslaught. It holds, and Allen and Lavi sigh in relief. 

A sudden wave of tiredness overtakes Allen. “I’m… tired. Let’s just... stay here for awhile.” Allen says. Sinking down into that comforting dark water. Lavi nods and agrees, sinking down with him and laying his head on Allen’s shoulder. 

There’s something wrong about that, but Allen is distracted. This water, it feels so soothing, so comforting. Like a warm embrace from Mana. Like Mana holding his hand as he cried. Like all of his friends, telling him they loved him, that they knew all along and that they loved him anyway. Like Cross saying he was sorry for driving him away and that he loved him for who he was. 

Like a warm, comforting blanket, that would be really nice to just fall asleep in. Well, he is tired, would it really be so bad as to just take a little nap? Something was niggling at him, some idea or thought that didn’t like that idea. Allen pushes it away. He was just so tired. 

He falls down deeper in the water, his head submerged, and finds that that doesn’t bother him either. He takes a deep breath and relaxes, a smile on his face as he slowly falls asleep.

_ So you don’t want to keep walking, Allen? _

Allen rolls over.  _ Go, ‘way. _

_ Because, I thought, when you made that promise to me, that you meant it.  _ The voice sounds hurt. And worried. And familiar. 

Allen blinks, consciousness stirring.  _ …Mana? _ There was wonder and love in his voice, but lurking under it was hurt and betrayal.

_ I’m sorry. I wish he had never hurt you. That I had never hurt you. But I am so proud of you, Allen. _ There’s proud tears in Mana’s voice, and tears fill Allen’s eyes. He takes a breath in, and water fills his lungs. Water? Why is there water?

_ But you need to wake up. You need to keep walking. And your friend, he’s in danger as much as you are. Keep walking, Allen. And remember me, that this part of me, will always love you. _

Determination and energy filled Allen’s bones,  _ keep walking, always. _ The last dregs of the Witch Trap tried to latch onto his mind, trying to pull his mind back to his wants and insecurities and past happiness, and he shakes it off as he surges out of the water, inducing yet another purging spell for the water as he coughs and vomits it up out of his lungs and stomach. Shit, he’s nearly at his limit for spell usage, it’s times like these that he wishes he worked on his spell stamina as much as Lavi and Lenalee did. 

He found Lavi slumped over, nearly asleep, and he curses invectives not meant for delicate ears as he strides over, grabs him, and swims while holding tight to his body until they’re out of the water and back onto the snow, right where they’d started at the beginning of this mess. 

He creates a barrier before they can start to sink, and then starts slapping Lavi in the face. “C’mon, Lavi, wake up!”

Lavi snorts, rolling away from him, “Libraries… mmm. Pecans… mrkkl.” That last sound was because Allen is shaking him now, he can’t go to sleep, he  _ can’t! _ That’s how Witches get more than half their victims! They capture people inside their labyrinths and either lure them to Witch traps like these, or wait until they’ve survived the night and the people relax and decide to fall asleep inside the labyrinth. And then, when they do fall asleep, their souls are devoured by the Witch. And then their bodies are left to rot inside the labyrinth or get found by the authorities.

Allen’s eyes are tearing up, the water from the moat must be agitating them, “Lavi, please, you have to wake up!” Aleah yells, shaking him. Still no response. “Please Lavi, please wake up!” Nothing, just his chest, slowly rising and falling, breathing becoming slower and slower. Slowing down, until, eventually, Allen knows, it’ll slow to a stop. Allen renews the barrier with a vengeance and puts his head in his hand, gouging the other into the ground. 

“I hate you!” He yells. “You’re a disgrace to the Bookman Clan!” His shoulders are shaking slightly, but he ignores it, it’s just cold out here, that's all. “You bastard! What about your friends, Lavi? What about Lenalee, and Kanda, and Alma, and this is just gonna break Komui’s heart. What am I supposed to say to them?” Allen yells, voice breaking.

“And what about me? You just… you just…”  _ You left me. _ Allen shuts down. He’s not sobbing, but he’s hunched in on himself, crying silently in that way he learned when he didn’t want to be seen or heard, shoulders shaking slightly. I’m fine I’m fine I’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’m- 

Then there are arms wrapping around him from behind, and before Allen can really process anything he’s half turned his body with his left arm wrapped around the stranger, four foot long metallic claws poised to go right through their back. Allen’s keen hearing can pick up the person’s heartbeat, and even with those claws so near, it never falters. “I’m sorry,” Lavi says, eyes red and smile sad, and Allen starts to shake, retracting his claws from their position over Lavi’s back and pulling away, turning around to wipe his face, trying to regain his composure.

“You asshole!” Allen yells, turning to glare at him, “I thought you were dead.” He definitely does not say through a throat choked with tears. He is composed, dammit.

Lavi grabs his hand and squeezes, and, is he crying? He just looks so relieved, and he’s shaking a bit, too. Allen softens, and he reaches over and does some awkward shoulder squeezing. At least, it’s awkward for him when not driven by their covalent bond/battle connection thing. Lavi had made jokes about Soul Bonds when it had formed, but given it often formed for siblings that fought together, Allen thought this comparison rather distasteful. 

Well, whatever platonic connection they might have, it seems to be working. Lavi rubs the back of his neck, and quips, slightly teasing, “Yeah, well, I nearly was, until you started crying and blubbering all over me.”

Allen sniffs haughtily. Or tries to. There’s something clogging up his nose, and he wipes it on Lavi’s shoulder vindictively before saying, “I was not crying. You must be seeing things.”

Lavi pulls back to look at him, a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, am I? If you say so, O wise Lord of the weeping waterfalls.” Allen snerks and hits him on the shoulder, the sound a bit muted, and Lavi with a wave of his hand produces a handkerchief. Allen glares at him and says, “I am not using that.”

Lavi throws up his hands. “Fine! Have a clogged up nose forever!” He says, throwing the cloth down and walking off. Allen’s eyes slide down toward the offending piece of cloth, then at Lavi, who is standing, back toward him. Well, as long as he wouldn’t notice… 

The cloth is gone when Lavi comes back, cleverly buried in the snow.

Lavi grins at him. “You ready to kick some Witch butt?”

Allen smiles back. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Allen's OOCness -- this Allen, while in character on the outside, is generally more honest with his thoughts on the inside, except with some things. He's also gone through some stuff that Canon Allen didn't go through, which I had to take into account when writing him.


End file.
